


Ripples

by Aztecl



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Broken Families, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/M, Feelings, Gen, Loss of Trust, Natasha Romanov Needs a Hug, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Sokovia Accords, Songfic, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:15:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28842984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aztecl/pseuds/Aztecl
Summary: 'I thought we were friends, but now we're enemies.'*Sam stopped but didn't say anything. From the corner of his eye, Steve saw him watching him. He probably looked like shit. Images from Siberia flashed through his mind, the memories still hot and vivid. Blood. Bucky. Howard and Maria Stark. Tony. Zemo. Steve cringed when looking back at the file he'd once held in his hands—the papers inside had described, with great detail, the murders Bucky had committed.He paused. Not Bucky; it was the Winter Soldier.*Or, a songfic with "The Knife In My Back" by Alec Benjamin. A character study centering on Tony, Nat, and Steve. Other characters are really only mentioned (except Sam).
Relationships: Pepper Potts/Tony Stark
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	Ripples

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Marvel or its characters. I also don't own this song or lyrics. This amazing song belongs to Alec Benjamin, my favorite artist.
> 
> I recommend you listen to the song first. :)
> 
> IF THIS ISN'T ALLOWED, I WILL REMOVE IT. PLEASE JUST LET ME KNOW.

_I am slowly learning that the things you promised me_

_Are burning like the embers of a thousand willow trees_

Tony took one last weary glance at the unfinished circuits and wires around him before turning his back. He wiped the sweat off his hands using his grease stained jeans, marveling at how little there was. Exhaustion had run its course. He knew that. And yet, Tony couldn't bring himself to stop and sleep and relax. 

_And every single secret has been broadcast like TV_

Every time he closed his eyes, Tony could see figures burned into his eyelids. They would dance around one another in an elaborate game of cat and mouse—prey and predator. He saw a shape that resembled a vehicle crashing and bringing his life down with it. However, Tony knew that they weren't side effects of sleep deprivation. It was all too real, and could be summarized into one word: Siberia.

_Now all the threads are severed that were tying you to me_

Tony entered the elevator and said, "FRIDAY, common room." He rubbed at his temples with the hope of being able to diminish his thoughts. 

_I thought we were friends, but now we're enemies_

The Avengers were fractured. Tony didn't even know what to think about it—the fact that Rogers had lied and known about his parent's murder, that it had been done by Barnes and he was determined to protect him. Did Romanoff know? Probably, he realized. Romanoff had a way of knowing everything around her without anyone knowing anything about herself. Did Barton know? Unlikely, but the archer was still guilty when referring back to the damn Sokovia Accords and its terms.

He waited for the elevator to take him to the common room area. With a small spark of rare joy, Tony remembered that he would be seeing Peter Parker today. Maybe the day wouldn't be wasted in his thoughts again. 

_I thought we were friends, but now we're enemies_

* * *

_Pull your knife out of my back, your blood runs black_

"Fuck," Natasha muttered under her breath.

Every breath she took quickly transformed into a cool puff of hazy air, the ever-present chill lingering. The temperature seemed to drop like how she dropped into the shadows. 

Darkness was familiar to Natasha, a rare comfort found while running from enemies of all sorts. Another familiar presence was the crimson blood leaking from her shoulder, running down the side of head, and dripping into her eyes to the point where her vision was blurred.

_I was just surprised at how you turned on me so fast_

Natasha pulled a small knife out of a sheath hidden by her bulky winter coat. She lunged and swung at the officer nearest to her, feeling both satisfaction and sickness when it landed true—not anywhere fatal; but still a hit to draw a streak of blood. He fell back and slammed against another person donned in tactical armor. 

Natasha told herself it was self-defense. Was it really though, if you were the one to initiate the causation involved? After all, it had been her to turn on Stark and the Sokovia Accords she'd signed. She'd been the one to draw the knife and stab it into her friend's backs.

_I let you in, I held you close_

There would be no more team movie nights, training exercises, or even the inevitable complaining that came with party and gala invitations. No more late night talks with Rogers or Maximoff. No more places like the Compound where Natasha could safely relax in refuge. No more sleepless nights and drinking with Stark.

_My blood flows like a river cause I trusted you the most_

She chided herself for getting distracted, for getting hurt in a useless fight. They weren't even General Ross' men, but instead low-level officers from one of her many past mistakes. It didn't take Natasha long to incapacitate all of them. She involuntarily winced when she remembered that she had better things to do than admire her handiwork. 

The shadows engulfed her as Natasha slunk away with practiced ease.

_And now I know it's over_

* * *

_I was so naive_

When the elevator doors reopened and the tell-tale beeping rang throughout the heavy silence, Tony's breath caught in his throat.

_I even let you in my home_

The Avengers Compound was the same as it had always been, yet it was also different. There was the kitchen. The living area. Furniture and leftover items that would remain lost and never be found. But there was no assassin filing her nails with a knife, a soldier marveling at whatever electronics he saw, or even a birdbrain archer poking his head out of the overhead vent above the couch. It was empty and devoid of anything and anyone. Those times existed only in memory.

Obviously, Pepper wasn't there either. Part of Tony still clung to the hollow feeling of hope—that maybe she would be sitting there like old times and he'd be able to lie down and put his head in her lap as she sweeped him into her loving embrace.

_Took you out for dinner and let you wear my clothes_

Tony stood there for a few moments, engrossed in his desire. He took a few breaths and pushed away the oh-so familiar feeling of detachment that was waiting for him, arms open. When had that become a normal thing in his life? Was he that screwed up?

_I can't even breathe, I have your scent still in my nose_

He needed to stop—wanted to stop—torturing himself by playing back every conversation he'd had in the past few weeks, whether they were with his ex-teammates or his ex-girlfriend. Tony hated how easily the title of "ex" fit into his latest failures.

_It's like I almost miss you_

He supposed that title could fit into everyone's if you really thought about it. Steve Rogers used to be America's golden boy. Barton and Romanoff were S.H.I.E.L.D's top agents. But now, Tony remembered that the world they'd once lived in was gone. There was no S.H.I.E.L.D, and Tony wasn't sure he would ever call the Avengers a team—or friends. Every word describing them was in past tense, like something had died that day.

_I should have known_

* * *

_I thought we were friends, but now we're enemies_

Steve almost didn't hear Sam's footsteps coming up from behind him. He didn't turn, instead staring and burning a metaphorical hole through the ocean waves far beneath where he stood on a cliff overlooking the Norwegian sea. The air was salty and reminiscent of an ozone odor wafting in with the current.

_I thought we were friends, but now we're enemies_

Sam stopped but didn't say anything. From the corner of his eye, Steve saw him watching him. He probably looked like shit. Images from Siberia flashed through his mind, the memories still hot and vivid. Blood. Bucky. Howard and Maria Stark. Tony. Zemo. Steve cringed when looking back at the file he'd once held in his hands—the papers inside had described, with great detail, the murders Bucky had committed.

He paused. Not Bucky; it was the Winter Soldier.

_Pull your knife out of my back, your blood runs black_

Did Sam just say something? Or was that just the ringing in Steve's ears from when he brought his shield down on Stark's arc reactor? It had echoed throughout the empty Siberian base, another jolt to the reality that they were tricked. Then they'd walked right into said trap.

_I was just surprised at how you turned on me so fast_

Howard had made the shield for him all those years ago, when they were in the midst of a war that never seemed to end. Stark was right in a way, Steve had to admit. He really didn't deserve that shield if he was only going to use it for his own personal motives, or for protecting someone who maybe wasn't so innocent.

But Bucky was brainwashed. It wasn't his fault. It was Hydra and their damn experiments that caused all this. 

_I let you in, I held you close_

"Steve."

He turned to look at Sam, his hand coming up to scratch his stubbled chin. "I'm sorry. What did you say before?"

"I'm going to go out and restock our supplies," said Sam. "We'll need some things before we travel halfway across Europe." He knew Steve wanted to find Romanoff. She might be one of the only people on their side of this waging war.

_My blood flows like a river cause I trusted you the most_

_And now I know it's over_


End file.
